


Shades of Pale

by lotusk



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Restaurant, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Asshole Joonmyun, Blond Jongin, Blond Suho, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Public Sex, Strangers to Lovers, Tattoos, top suho, waiter jongin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-22
Updated: 2016-04-22
Packaged: 2018-06-03 19:32:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6623395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lotusk/pseuds/lotusk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Joonmyun is the rich customer from hell and Jongin is the patient waiter who never loses his cool. That is, until Joonmyun decides to take matters into his own hands and make Jongin lose his cool for good.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shades of Pale

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Joonmyun is a manipulative asshole and there's mild dubcon. This isn't my usual style so please read at your own risk.

_It's Thursday_ , Joonmyun smirks as he straightens the snowy white cuffs of his impeccably pressed white button-down. Pulling out a black velvet-lined drawer, he reaches for a pair of rectangular black onyx cuff links and inserts them into place. He usually wears dark colored shirts at night - black, midnight blue, aubergine, burnt umber. But for tonight, he needs white. Only white will do. Joonmyun checks his reflection in the mirror. Straight vanilla blond hair obscures his forehead, just brushing the edges of his dark eyebrows.

His hands tuck the tails of the shirt neatly into fitted black slacks before he straightens and walks over to the closet to remove a light slate gray jacket. He is only ever seen in dark colored jackets in the nighttime but again, for what he has in mind, only a pale shade will do. Only pale colors will do for tonight.

As he shrugs the jacket over his arms and shoulders and makes sure the gray gabardine settles neatly over white superfine Egyptian cotton, Joonmyun smirks again. He loves Thursdays.

***

_It's Thursday_ , Jongin grimaces. He hates Thursday shifts because that's the night he always gets stuck serving Mr. Kim. He habitually spends two hours dining at Café Eros and he always comes alone ( _who else could stand his company_ , Jongin thinks) and he always insists on having Jongin as his waiter. The slender, small built man seems determined to make Jongin's life hell with his ridiculous demands and unreasonable complaints. The lobster isn't fresh enough. His Chardonnay isn't chilled enough. His prawn bisque isn't hot enough. The salad greens aren't crisp enough. It drives Jongin mad that he has to make no less than fifteen trips to his table any time Mr. Kim's at the restaurant. He wonders if he tortures other waiters in other establishments the same way.

If Jongin is honest with himself though, he doesn't actually hate serving Mr. Kim because for all his coldly critical and imperious ways, Jongin finds the man unacceptably attractive. And it makes Jongin furious that he wants to pour laxative into Mr. Kim's soup almost as much as he wants to see him naked. He really really hates Thursdays, Jongin frowns as he folds the right sleeve of his white button-down up to the elbow, and ties a navy blue pin-striped apron around his black trouser-clad hips.

***

"Your usual, sir?" the waiter asks politely as he passes the Wine menu to Joonmyun. His name is Jongin. Joonmyun had ascertained that on the day he first saw the young man because he hadn't wanted any other waiter serving him from that day onwards. The manager had assured Joonmyun that he would make sure of it and indeed, Joonmyun had enjoyed Jongin's exclusive service every Thursday since then.

Joonmyun has known his name for two months but he's never used it. He only ever calls him Waiter or Boy. If it bothers Jongin, he does well to conceal his distaste because he always has the same neutral, politely pleasant expression on his face. Joonmyun wants to wipe that expression off his face, peel off that mask of civility and see what emotions lurk beneath.

"No. I'm not having Chardonnay today." Joonmyun's voice is hard as flint. After perusing the 15 varieties listed on the menu, he decides on the 2008 Pinot Noir. A red. He almost never takes red and he has most definitely never taken any in Café Eros. But only red will do tonight.

"Very well, sir." Again, the polite impersonal nod. Jongin is tall and lean with smooth caramel skin and blond hair even paler than Joonmyun's own. It's almost platinum it's so pale. It should clash with Jongin's richly tanned skin but somehow it doesn't - it only accentuates the squareness of his jaw and the lazy slant of his brown eyes.

Joonmyun watches the unintentionally alluring movements of Jongin's long, leanly muscled legs as he walks towards the bar area. It fascinates him how the boy seems so unaware of (or at least unconcerned about) his own natural sexiness. There's no smugness or cockiness in his demeanor to indicate that he knows or cares that he's good looking, and this only makes Jongin even more irresistible - even more compelling.

Jongin soon returns with a slim, olive green glass bottle. Gracefully, he moves Joonmyun's wineglass and fills it quarter way with deep red liquid. He stands and waits as Joonmyun samples the bouquet. When Joonmyun nods, he pours more Pinot Noir into the glass, filling it to the halfway mark. And Joonmyun watches surreptitiously as the muscles flex gracefully in Jongin's slim, elegant arms.

"Waiter, make sure the steak is rare. I hate it when my beef is tough. And the carrots weren't cooked through last week. They were completely unpalatable. You need to take better care of your customer's needs." Joonmyun makes an effort to sound extremely obnoxious and insufferable. But no matter how contrary Joonmyun is, he's never managed to get a rise out of Jongin; he plans to change that tonight.

"I'll take note of that, sir." Jongin nods, bows and starts moving towards the kitchen. The set of the tall man's shoulders are a little more tense than usual and Joonmyun has to stop himself from smiling triumphantly.

***

"The soup is cold." Mr. Kim makes a moue of distaste as he pushes his bowl away. Jongin knows this is pure bullshit because the bottom of the bowl had been blistering hot when he'd brought it to the table just two minutes earlier. He swears he will throttle this man one day (even if he looks incredibly handsome in white. Jongin wonders why he's never seen him in white before) ... but not today because he still needs this part-time job. As he's about to take the bowl, Mr. Kim complains, "Why haven't you topped up my wine?"

Jongin is dead sure there was half a glass of Pinot Noir just a moment ago, just like he's positive the soup isn't cold. But he isn't about to call Mr. Unreasonable a fucking liar and lose his job so he reaches for the bottle and begins pouring the wine in a smooth, fluid motion. He's almost done decanting the wine when something knocks into his elbow. Burgundy colored liquid sails through the air in a perfect arc before splattering all over Mr. Kim's chest, staining the pristine white with crimson.

"Mr. Kim, I'm so sorry!" Jongin puts the bottle down hastily and grabs the nearest table napkin and tries to soak up as much of the red liquid from Mr. Kim's shirt as he can.

"STOP." Mr. Kim's voice is like a blast of frigid air as his hand grabs Jongin's wrist in an unyielding grip. His palm and fingers are like a hot tattoo on his skin, warm tingles radiating outward and upsetting Jongin's equilibrium.

"I need to clean this up, I -"

"You will cease pawing me in public, but you will help me remove this stain in the washroom. Now."

"But,"

"NOW."

***

There's the sound of metal sliding against metal and Jongin turns around to see that Mr. Kim has latched the door. The washroom is spacious and tastefully appointed in varying shades of bronze and gold and mocha, with an ivory vanity top and twin bowls, a large, mahogany framed wall mirror and two toilet stalls.

"Why did you lock the door?"

"For privacy." Mr. Kim answered abruptly. "Help me with my jacket," He orders and Jongin immediately moves behind him and takes off the thankfully stain free jacket before draping it over a cushion covered stool in the corner. "Now my shirt."

"Pardon?" Jongin asks in surprise. He's sure there's something mildly inappropriate about this.

"Help me unbutton my shirt." Mr. Kim says firmly and Jongin can't help but appreciate the way the fabric strains slightly over broad, angular shoulders. He's always assumed from Mr. Kim's slender build that his jackets have padded shoulders and it gives him a thrill to discover that the man actually has wide shoulders. It's ... sexy.

"Why?"

"Because I'm not having you remove the stain while I'm still in it." His expression is so mesmerizingly stern that Jongin doesn't even question the faulty logic and the fact that Mr. Kim could just as easily undo the buttons himself. Involuntarily, his fingers reach for the smoke mother-of-pearl buttons and untether them from their moorings ... one by one. His fingers become increasingly shaky as slivers of smooth pale skin come into view with each button being released. It takes everything in him to not stroke that smooth pale landscape beneath the snowy white fabric.

"It's done." Jongin's hands drop by his sides - both relieved and regretful.

"Now take the shirt off. You made this mess, you'll clean it up."

"I ..." Jongin hesitates because he's not sure what he'll do if he's actually confronted with Mr. Kim's bare chest when mere glimpses of it have already shaken him so much.

"Now." Mr. Kim's eyes are intense, boring persuasively into Jongin's and he can't stop his fingers from gripping the edges of the placket and pushing the shirt slowly off strong, bony shoulders. It's impossible to muffle the gasp when the sleeves fall away to reveal starkly inked, beautifully intricate tattoos. Ebony curlicues decorate and caress the pale, pale skin of the other man's upper arms and Jongin can feel his groin tightening in response to their seductive beauty. His fingers itch to explore the lines on live canvas but he forces himself to take the shirt off as impersonally as he can - just as he tries to ignore the flat stomach and hard chest which now lie uncovered too.

"Do you like them?"

"Sorry?"

"The tattoos. Do you like them?"

"I don't see what that has to do with anything?"

"Yes or no?" Mr. Kim's raised a sardonic eyebrow.

"Yes." Jongin says grudgingly.

"Touch them."

"I don't want to." There's stubbornness in Jongin's tone and Mr. Kim doesn't say anything more to convince him. Instead, the fingers of his right hand encircle Jongin's left wrist and guide his hand to his left bicep. It should have been awkward but Jongin is so turned on by the tattoo and the smooth, warm texture of his skin that he just gives himself up to the sensations. Slowly, his fingertips skate across painted skin. Muscles ripple beneath the skin in response to Jongin's touch, making the tattoos seem alive.

He's so caught up in the feel of Mr. Kim's skin beneath his fingertips that Jongin loses track of what the other man is doing. He's been inexplicably attracted to this demanding prick for so many weeks that to actually have Mr. Kim shirtless before him is far too much cope with. So Jongin is completely unprepared for the wet, sensual pressure of the other man's mouth on his neck. He gasps in a mixture of shock and lust as the kiss sets off ripples of sensation across his sensitized skin. Then Mr. Kim is pulling the white collar away and cool air tickles the base of Jongin's neck just before it's chased away by tongue and teeth. Jongin can't stop the moan that escapes his lips as the other man marks his skin and makes his cock twitch within the confines of his pants.

"Take it off. Your shirt, take it off." Mr. Kim whispers in his ear just before he licks the lobe and tugs on it with his teeth, lighting an intense path of heat that leads straight to his already hard cock. Half-dazed with desire, Jongin doesn't even hesitate and immediately begins undoing the plain white buttons on his white shirt. At least he tries to undo them but his trembling fingers aren't co-operating and after a while, Mr. Kim pushes his hands out of the way and takes care of the buttons. When he's pulled the shirt off Jongin's shoulders though, it is his turn to gasp ...

***

The warm golden skin on Jongin's left upper arm is wreathed with a hypnotically beautiful Celtic armband tattoo while the other arm is just bare, unembellished light cinnamon skin. Joonmyun is gripped with strong waves of lust, now that he's seen the inked skin that had lain concealed beneath pure white cotton all these months. His right hand explores the clear symmetrical lines and edges of the tattoo while the other drags slowly across the surface of Jongin's abdomen. The younger man's eyes close and his breath hitches as Joonmyun's fingers stop at the waistband of his dark trousers and reach behind to untie the strings of his apron. Seconds later, dark pin striped fabric slides to the floor unheeded. Joonmyun has to reach up to kiss those generous lips and his tongue plunges into the depths of Jongin's mouth at the exact moment his hands grab his butt and pull him close, their hips slamming together. Jongin moans, low and soft into Joonmyun's mouth as they kiss hungrily. Hard with arousal, their trouser-clad cocks rub against each other, both men rocking their hips instinctively.

"Trousers off." Joonmyun bites out as his fingers slide inside the waistband of Jongin's trousers and cup his erection - the contact making Jongin buck against his palm.

"Someone could come in." Jongin says breathily, trying his hardest to cling to the last vestiges of rationality.

"The door's locked. If we're quick, no one will ever know." Joonmyun's hand slips inside his briefs and massages his cock insistently. Overcome with pleasure, Jongin hastily unbuckles his belt and unzips his fly - despite the knowledge that everything about this is wrong, despite the fact that he doesn't even know this man. Jongin knows he should put an end to this and leave but he wants to see Mr. Kim naked more than he wants to do the right thing so he stays - his body tense with anticipation.

Jongin's quiet as Joonmyun stands behind him and eases his trousers down, then slides his thumbs beneath the waistband of his navy blue briefs and pulls them down. As his own cock springs free, he feels Joonmyun's still clothed erection pressing against his tailbone. But soon, soon there's nothing but heated skin pressing against the flesh of his ass and strong fingers wrapped around his cock. Once those fingers start to move, Jongin can't hold back the husky moans - his body bowing in pleasure and his arms leaning on the vanity counter for support. He keeps his eyes closed because he doesn't want to to be confronted with his own reflection; he doesn't want to see how ruined he looks.

Through the sensual haze, Jongin feels the tip of Joonmyun's cock nudging against his entrance and a silky voice echoing in his ears, "Do you want me?"

"Yes." It's almost a moan and Joonmyun smiles with satisfaction as he reaches for the small tube and foil packet in the inside pocket of his jacket.

Jongin doesn't make a sound and his eyes shut even more tightly as a slick finger penetrates him slowly and gently. He writhes slightly as the second and the third finger follow the first but he continues to be quiet. Maybe if he's quiet he can pretend the outside world doesn't exist and he won't lose his job over this. But when Joonmyun finally pushes into him, really pushes into him, Jongin forgets to be quiet and just surrenders to the waves of pleasure flooding his entire body and moans.

Joonmyun's wanted this boy for so long and he is every bit as exquisite as he envisioned. His long, lean flanks, the incredibly broad shoulders and narrow hips, his curved ass. Everything is perfect. But when his cock is sliding in and out of Jongin, it's not his body Joonmyun sees but his face. Not just the expression of ecstasy he sees in the mirror before him but Jongin's face as he'd kissed him earlier. The expression of surprised wonder followed by awakening desire.

Jongin cries out as Joonmyun nips his shoulder playfully, the touch of pain intensifying his pleasure and he rocks backwards to meet Joonmyun's fevered thrusts. As the hand around his cock moves faster and faster, Jongin can feel his climax building. His limbs become increasingly languid as Joonmyun drives into him, hips impacting his ass again and again. And when fingers tweak his nipples at the same time a wet hot mouth engulfs his earlobe, he moans desperately and just ... lets go.

Jongin's face contorts in ecstasy and his muscles clench around Joonmyun's cock and it's all too much as he grips Jongin's shoulders tightly and rams into him one last time before he too gives himself up to overwhelming rapture ...

***

By some miracle, none of the restaurant patrons or staff have tried to open the door but the two men dress quickly anyway. They're almost-strangers who've just had sex and there's that awkward silence that always follows such encounters - where two people have shared the most intimate of acts but know nothing of each other. It's killing Jongin because he doesn't want this to be the last time they dress together in silence.

"Your shirt ... I'll try to get rid of the stain with white wine but I'll send it to the dry cleaner if that doesn't work."

"There's no need." Joonmyun straightens the cuffs of his shirt.

"No, I spilt the wine and I'll take care of it."

"I spilt it, you mean. I knocked your elbow after all. On purpose."

"Why would you do that?" Jongin looks at him, confused.

"Why would I wear a white shirt when I always wear a dark one? Why would I order red wine when I only ever drink white? Think about it, Jongin."

"You know my name?" There's an accusatory tone in Jongin's voice and Joonmyun smirks as he tells him he's known his name since day one.

"What the fuck?!" Jongin bursts out - completely forgetting for once, to control his irritation around his most difficult customer. "But you always call me Boy or Waiter. I hate that; it makes me feel like a piece of furniture. And you're absolutely obnoxious and impossible to please."

"That's the whole point though. I wanted a reaction from you. But you didn't react. For two whole months. You're hopeless, Jongin. Honestly. So tonight, I decided it was time to take matters into my own hands."

"So did you get what you wanted? Was it fun for you?" Jongin looks and sounds angry.

"Why don't we talk about it over dinner tomorrow?" Joonmyun's fingers trail slowly over Jongin's jaw.

"What?"

"I'll pick you up from your home, wherever that is. And we'll have dinner at a nice restaurant and you can have a waiter serve you for a change."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Let me make things up to you." Joonmyun kisses his neck, blowing small puffs of air on his skin - an action which both tickles and arouses Jongin at the same time.

"I'll think about it." Jongin says huskily as a palm closes over his ass and firm, coral pink lips slide over his own ...

_**One week later, Café Eros** _

It's Thursday night and Jongin sighs as he walks the familiar path to the table in the corner. He hadn't expected Joonmyun to show up here after everything that's happened between them in the past week. He hasn't been Mr. Kim since the previous Thursday. He's more than made up for the way he's tortured Jongin in the past two months, and is just Joonmyun now. To Jongin's relief, Joonmyun has turned out to be only an occasional asshole with a penchant for spoiling Jongin - now that he's not trying to get Jongin's attention in the dumbest, most ass backwards way possible.

Joonmyun looks dashing in a black shirt and black jacket - the dark colors setting off the highlights in Joonmyun's vanilla blond hair perfectly - and Jongin has to work hard to keep his expression as neutral as possible. He doesn't want him getting a fat head.

"Boy, where's my menu?" Joonmyun asks coldly and Jongin forces himself to keep his face blank. Two can play this game.

"Here you are, sir." He places the menu carefully on the burgundy tablecloth. As he takes his order, Jongin plans the ways he'll make Joonmyun pay for this on Friday night.

Friday nights are fast becoming Jongin's favorite day of the week.


End file.
